


Silver Linings

by ohmyfancan



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Battle of Hogwarts, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Romance, badass ginny, canon character death, harry imparts some wisdom, ron can't keep his mouth shut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-19 00:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7337743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfancan/pseuds/ohmyfancan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When everything is over, and the dust has settled, Ginny finds that the future is not how she had imagined. For one, her brother is dead, her mother is more badass than she though and somewhere in the castle is the boy who saved them all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silver Linings

**Author's Note:**

> A little Hinny fluff with a sprinkling of angst. Set immediately post battle. 
> 
> I wrote and re-wrote this a bunch of times and I'm sure it could still be improved.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my version of what happened immediately after The Battle of Hogwarts. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned and/or the setting.

Light shone through the cracked windows, reflecting off the glittering fragments scattered across the floor. The four house tables had been returned but no one was sitting according to their houses. The High Table had been removed to make way for a temporary infirmary as the giants had destroyed the medical wing.

 

Ginny sat with her head on her mother's shoulder, staring at the room without actually seeing it. In her mind’s eye she saw her brother slump to the floor, life draining away, his last laugh still etched on his face. 

It replayed over and over, like some grotesque movie montage that had reached the end of its reel - something her father had shown her when she was little. 

Part of her still refused to believe that Fred was dead, actually dead, gone forever. Never again would she hear his voice, his laughter. Never again would she see that mischievous glint in his eyes or watch him pull yet another prank. 

Her brother was dead. 

She felt her mother shake with suppressed sobs. It had been Ginny’s idea to move away from Fred’s body; only George remained, unwilling or unable to leave. She couldn’t even imagine what he was feeling. 

It was bad enough to lose a brother or a son, but George had lost a twin. The two had been together since birth and now George would have to spend the remainder of his life alone. 

No, not alone. Never alone. He had his family, his friends, he would never be truly alone, but now there would be a hole in his life where his twin should have been, and no one would ever be able to fill it.

Ginny felt her mother shift and turned to see what had caused her to rouse. Over the heads of the crowds she saw a familiar bushy haired girl and red-headed boy walking towards them. Ginny looked past them, instinctively searching for the messy, raven haired boy she fallen in love with. 

He wasn’t with them and her heart clenched painfully, memories of him lying dead at the Dark Lord’s feet swirled in her head. She forced them away, reminding herself that he was alive and safe. 

With a cry, Mrs. Weasley jumped up and pushed her way through the crowds, enveloping her youngest son in a bone-crushing hug. 

Ginny watched with a faint smile as Ron patted their mother’s back awkwardly, his ears turning red with embarrassment. Ginny noticed that one of his arms was extended away from them and realized he was holding hands with Hermione. 

Also spotting her, Mrs. Weasley pulled Hermione into the hug. Ron gently untangled himself and Hermione from Mrs. Weasley, and after murmuring something to her continued on his way towards the rest of the family. 

Bill and Fleur were sat across from Ginny, their heads close together, her father and Percy had been sat on Mrs. Weasley’s other side and had both gotten up to welcome Ron and Hermione, and Charlie was sat with Hagrid beside Bill. 

Ginny waited until they had sat down before asking, with an attempt at casual that she was sure fooled no one, “Where’s Harry?” 

Ron snorted, not even bothering to look up to say, “You could at least let the man rest. He did just save the whole damn world!”

Hermione shot him a look that clearly said ‘shut up’, but Ron was too busy scoffing his face to notice and carried on. 

“Not that he’d care, been moping all year long, staring at your dot on the map.” Ron shook his head and looked up, but whatever he’d been about to say was lost as he saw the expressions on his families face; ranging from amused, Bill, to shock, Percy.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasely shared a knowing look. Ron glanced a Hermione who sighed and gave Ginny a sympathetic smile. Bill was the first to comment on this new information, though apparently it was too much of a surprise because he couldn’t come up with anything better than, “You… and Harry?” 

She didn’t reply and stared daggers at her idiotic brother, ‘Thanks Ron!”

Charlie pounced, “How long has that been going on for! I mean we all knew you liked him, that was obvious,” - Ginny scowled - “but when?… How did?... What!”

Knowing it would only make them more frustrated; Ginny bit back a smile at her brother’s confusion and said. “Nothings going on. Not any more.”

“Not...any more? The hell does that mean?” Bill asked, eyes wide.

“It means”, Ginny said with an air of a parent explaining the wonders of the world to a small child, “There was something going on. And now there isn’t.”

Charlie’s mouth hanged open, lips moving slightly as if trying to form words it couldn’t find.

“Why weren’t we told!” He asked hotly.

“Because, dear brother of mine, you don’t need to be told my every wonderings, and you certainly don’t need to know anything about my love life!” She said glaring round at her brothers.

“That includes you, Ron. It doesn’t concern you what I do or don’t do with my boyfriend –“ Ron opened his mouth to protest but Ginny carried on be fore he could say anything.

“I don’t care if he’s your best friend! Butt! Out!”

Ginny glared at her brother, holding his gaze until he looked away and shared a triumphant smile with Hermione, who waited till everyone had gone back to what they were doing before saying, “He said something about the dormitory.”

Ginny beamed at Hermione, and ignoring Ron’s scowl, she stood up, ready to fly to Harry by this point, and stopped when she felt a hand on her arm.

“Go easy on him,” Hermione said in a low voice, “He’s had a rough year and everything he did was because he had to. He had no other choice.”

Ginny knew what she was referring to and pushed aside the image of her green eyed Gryffindor laying apparently dead before her.  
Ginny smiled at Hermione, or tried to, she was sure it came out more like a grimace, and walked away.

 ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

Once outside of the Great Hall, her pace quickened, her longing for Harry grew with every step closer. She barely saw the destruction around her; the ripped tapestries, the smashed windows, the collapsed corridors or the groaning statues and empty frames.  
Her only thought was of Harry. 

She reached the seventh floor and hurried towards the portrait of the Fat Lady. The painting was ripped, like it had been in her second year, and wide open.

She entered the common room slowly, noting the overturned chairs and the scattered belongings. Cushions were strewn over the floor and the curtains lay limp. She could see that the fighting hadn’t reached this far and that terrified students trying to get away left this behind. 

She scanned the room, looking for anything out of place – though it was hard to tell through the mess – and stepped towards the staircase leading to the dormitories above. 

Ginny paused at the door to the seventh year boys’ dormitory, the only door that was shut, and wondered what she was doing. Harry obviously needed some time; time to think, to process, to grieve. And she should give it to him. Now that the threat of imminent death was gone they would have plenty of time to talk, years in fact, so there was no rush. She knew she should leave him his peace, turn around and go back to her family, but something held her in place. 

Harry was behind the door. 

They were closer to each other than they had been in months and even though she knew she should go she couldn’t make her feet move.  
With a deep breath she knocked softly on the door. There was a moment’s silence, long enough for her to wonder whether he was asleep, before he replied.

“Yeah?” 

In that one word Ginny could hear just how exhausted he was, and it wasn’t the type of exhaustion that came from just one night, no matter how difficult. 

It was the type that came from months, years really, of living a life of constant danger, pain and loss. He had lived through so much, even before coming to Hogwarts.

She pushed open the door, stepped inside and closed it again, leaning back against the door, arms behind her back, palms flat on the door.

Harry was lying on the bed directly opposite the door; his arm was thrown over his eyes, his glasses pushed onto his forehead. He peeked out from under his arm as she entered and when he saw whom it was he sat up quickly and his glasses fell from his forehead and landed lopsidedly on his nose. He flushed and straightened his glasses.

“Hi”, she whispered, watching him.

“Hey”, he murmured. 

She drank in the sight of him, hungrily devouring him, committing his every feature to memory. He was pale, and much thinner. His body was covered with cuts and bruises; his clothes were torn and singed in places. He was swathed in dirt, mud, soot and blood. He looked like he hadn’t eaten in days or slept in months. But he was still Harry and Merlin, she had missed him. 

The tension between them was almost pliable. The last time they had been alone together was the day of his birthday, and she was sure he was remembering it too. The memory of their last kiss hung between them.

Slowly, barely conscious of what she was doing, she pushed away from the door and stepped towards him. He watched her, his eyes roaming over her face. He too seemed to be drinking in the sight of her, his eyes both alert and fatigued. 

Even as she had walked up here she hadn’t been sure of what she would do once finally alone with him. But with Harry sitting just inches away, looking at her like that, there was only one course of action she could take.

Ginny slapped him.

Hard.

Right across the cheek, the sting of the blow echoed silently around the empty room. 

“Harry James Potter”, she hissed, anger flaring up suddenly inside her, “Don’t you ever, ever do that to me again! I don’t care if it was for the greater good! I don’t care if it saved the whole damn world! If you ever run off to die again, I will kill you Harry Potter!”

Harry stared up at her in shock and blood rushed to his cheek, showing the print of her hand quite nicely. She felt a small twinge of guilt but pushed it away, she was too angry for rational thought. Harry’s mouth opened and closed, unable to find words. 

Images flooded her mind, she saw Ron and Hermione’s expression of horror and dread as the cold voice confirmed her greatest fear, she saw Harry lying before Voldemort, still, so very still, and she saw Harry in the middle of the great hall, standing tall and proud, alive.

Hot, furious tears weld up and spilled over. She rubbed them away impatiently and fixed Harry with her best glare. He shrank back a little.

“You explain yourself right now, Potter! And don’t give me any of that ‘you don’t understand’ or ‘I had to’ crap!” Part of Ginny knew she was being insensitive, but she couldn’t stop herself. 

Harry gaped at her, his eyes wide.

“Ginny, I – I don’t know what to say.” He faltered.

“Start with why.” She scowled and crossed her arms.

“Ginny, I had to –” 

“Don’t give me that! How on earth could giving Voldemort what he wanted be what you had to do?” She was shouting again, hands balled into fists. 

“Ginny, you don’t –” he paused, took a breath and started again. 

“Look, it was the only way, I had to, otherwise Voldemort would still be alive. To defeat him I had to die.”

“If you had to die”, she started sarcastically, “then why are you still here?”

He sighed. “It’s complicated.”

Ginny stared at him, exhaustion and hurt radiating from him. What was she doing?

She stepped forward and sat down on the bed next to him. She put her fingers under his chin and turned him to face her. 

“Then tell me.”, she pleaded softly, “All I want is to understand. Please.”

Harry gazed at her, seeming taken aback by the change in her tone, his eyes searching hers. She wasn’t sure what he saw there but he gave a small nod and a weary grin.

“It’s a really long story. I don’t even completely understand it.”  
She shrugged, “We’ve got time.”

Harry nodded again and glanced down to where their fingers were intertwined.

“Ginny, I want to tell you something”, he said suddenly, “Something I should have said a long time ago. I’ll understand if you don’t feel the same, if you’ve moved on.”

Ginny sat quietly, waiting. She was pretty sure she knew where this was going, and if he said what she hoped he would say, then really, it was about time.

“I guess I was scared, scared that you didn’t fell the same, scared that you did. I wanted so badly to keep you at arms lengh, to keep you safe. If Voldemort had found out about us, you would have been in so much danger.” He shuddered at the thought, "I was terrified He would use you, like he did Sirius."

"Harry", she murmured. "I'm a Weasley, a blood traitor. I was already a target. Everyone knows how close you are to us. And it's not like we kept our relationship a secret. Everyone in the whole of Hogwarts knew about us. It would have gotten back to him anyway."

She understood why he had broken up with her, she didn't like it, but she understood. Too bad it wouldn't have worked anyway. It didn't matter that they had broken up, anyone who knew Harry would know that he wouldn't have left her to die, no matter their relationship. 

And Voldemort knew this. 

"I know that, but people dont think straight when they're scared." He paused and looked up. The exhaustion in his eyes had disappeared; a ferocious intensity had taken its place.

“But I’m not scared anymore, I know what I want. I want you. I love you, Ginny.”

She had known it was coming but still tears pricked her eyes. When did she turn into such a crybaby? 

“You are the stupidest man I have ever met!” She said with a laugh. Ginny shifted, sliding her leg over his so she was sitting on his lap facing him. She twined her arms around his neck and knotted her fingers in his hair. 

“I love you.” She laughed again, felling relief and joy. “Of course I love you, you idiot!”

Without giving him time to reply, Ginny kissed him. 

It was as if these past few months had never happened, like Harry had never left. 

His response was immediate, his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her closer, and his hands clutched at her back. Their lips moulded together and they kissed furiously till there was no space between them. 

There was nothing else in the world better than kissing Harry, not chocolate, firewhisky or even Quidditch. The world receded around them, they were the only two, and nothing else mattered. 

They say that your life flashes before your eyes when you die, the important bits anyway. As they kissed Ginny saw her life spread out before her like a brilliant tapestry. 

She saw herself as a child, playing with her brothers, her mother combing her hair, her father telling her stories. She saw herself watching as each of her brothers started Hogwarts, leaving her behind. 

She saw the day she first met the boy who lived, her childhood hero.  
She saw Christmases and summers spent with him, watching him and his friends lark about, remembering feeling jealous of Hermione and her easy friendship with the boy she idolized.

She saw herself growing up at Hogwarts, being sorted, making friends. 

Harry saving her from Riddle.

Harry in the Triwizard Tournament, battling dragons, mermaids and a host of foul enchantments.

Harry teaching them how to defend themselves against Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Harry being punished for telling the truth.

Harry saving dad.

The ministry.

The room with the spinning doors.

The jellyfish.

The prophecy.

The battle.

Sirius dying.

Harry running.

Voldemort.

She saw everything. 

The first time Harry kissed her, all their afternoons spent together.  
Dumbledore dead.

Mad-Eye dead.

Their kiss in her bedroom.

And everything that had happened that day, all the deaths, every spell.

The tapestry changed, twisted and surged forward. She saw her future, everything she had ever wanted. The only thing she had ever wanted.

Harry.

They broke apart and stared at each other, wide-eyed and breathless. She unlocked her fingers from his hair and brought them round to cradle his face. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, and one to the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. She held him there, feeling his breath on her neck, and her eyes slid closed. They sat like that for a moment, then she shifted, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burring her face in the crook of his neck. His arms tightened around her and she felt his cheek on her hair. 

He was here.

Alive.

With her.

He loved her.

And suddenly it was too much. Everything crashed around her and her grief threatened to swallow her.

So many dead, her own brother, gone. The events of the day swirled in her head, looming over her, pulling her under. Sobs racked her body, tore from her throat. 

She clenched her jaw, fighting to keep it inside. She wanted to keen in misery, but that was not her way. What was the point of crying? It was done, it happened and she couldn’t change it. It was irrational. 

But she couldn’t stop. Harry pulled her closer, holding her tight. He rocked her slowly; stroking her hair, saying everything was going to be ok. 

“Shhh, Ginny. Its ok, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, Ginny, don’t cry.”

He held her tighter and his lips brushed her temple. She felt something wet fall on her cheek and realized he was crying too. He turned and she was on her side. They were lying on the bed, legs intertwined. She pressed her face against his chest and he held her tightly, stroking her hair back from her face and letting her cry.

She stilled eventually, the grief slowly abating, it didn’t disappear completely, and she knew it never would. Harry pulled back slightly to look at her. 

He brushed away the last of her tears with his thumb and then left it there, lingering over her cheek. She stared back, seeing the concern and understanding in his eyes.

“I saw Dumbledore.” He murmured. Ginny frowned, confused and he gave her a wiry smile.

“When Voldemort tried to kill me. I didn’t die, not completely, but I did fall unconscious and I saw Dumbledore.” 

Ginny’s frown deepened. 

“Harry”, she said slowly, “that was your imagination.”

“No, it was different. He told me thing only Dumbledore could know.”

“He’s dead Harry.” She said softly, as if trying not to hurt his feelings.

“I know that. That’s my point.”

“But you said you didn’t die.”

“I didn’t”, he said, “Its like my body stayed here and my consciousness or soul or whatever was sent on, to the in-between or something.”

Ginny frowned again. “I’m confused.”

“Yeah, so am I.” he chuckled. “My point is, I saw him, talked to him. He’s dead but he’s happy. Fred, Remus, Tonks, Collin, they died, but I believe that wherever they are they’re happy. We have to remember the good things, the things they achieved. We have to be strong, they all died for a cause. It wasn’t a pointless murder or a horrible accident. They died for something and we have to honour that by building a better world and living life, not just going through the motions.”

Ginny smiled slightly, picturing Fred, wherever he was, reeking havoc on the others, probably moaning that he missed the death of slimy snake and mum beating Bellatrix. If he was here he’d probably make a joke or pull a prank like levitating Voldemort’s body and pretending he was alive again. Not that that would be very funny and mum would be furious with him, but it seemed like the kind of thing that Fred and George would do.

“I think your right”, Ginny said with a nod. Then she smiled at Harry. “When did you get so good at making speeches?” 

‘Its not a speech”, he said, blushing, “I’m just talking to you. And I’ve had some time to think about all of this. I was ready to die for you all, ready to sacrifice myself so that this would all end. It made me look at things differently.”

Ginny stiffened, tightening her arms around him, not liking the thought of him dead, no matter what it meant. Harry sensed her unease and smiled. 

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. It made me realize that we don’t have to be scared of death, that when the time comes we should welcome it, but at the same time fight. Fight for life, fight for love, family and friendship. To not give up. It made me realize that life is a gift, its precious and we should not waste it or take it for granted. That we shouldn’t take anything for granted and if we want something we need to reach out and grab it.”

He stared at her intently and Ginny could here the message behind his words. He wasn’t gonna take her for granted, he loved her and he would do everything he could to show her that.

“When I went to meet Voldemort I didn’t know I could come back. It was agony for me to walk away, to leave you. To not say goodbye. I wanted so much to be selfish; to grab you and run, leave everything behind. You were my last thought. Not Ron and Hermione, not my parents or Dumbledore. You.”

He leaned forward and kissed her. He wasn’t hesitant or shy like he had been last year. His kiss was bold, firm, like he had finally stopped holding back. 

Last year he had been so careful with her, setting up boundaries and pulling away if he thought things had gone to far. She knew that part of it was the fact that the future had been unstable and unknown, and because he was so ridiculously noble and old fashioned for a teenaged boy he wouldn’t do things or make promises that he couldn’t later uphold. 

She also knew that his fear of her brothers had held him back – and probably still would – and of course he was a complete bobble head when it came to girls. He was so inexperienced and insecure that had it not been so annoying it would have been endearing. Getting him to do anything more than kiss had been so frustrating and almost bloody impossible. She had even thought that there might be something wrong with her, that he wasn’t doing anything because he didn’t want to. 

It wasn’t in her nature to hold back or hide so she had confronted him about it. He had blushed so hard and stammered something about ‘not wanting to take advantage’. It had made her laugh, the thought of Harry, or any boy really, trying to take advantage of her. Forget about the six older brothers, you don’t want to get on the wrong side of Ginny Weasley.

Now though, his hands gripped her waist, his tongue traced her lips and twined with hers. He rolled, so she was pressed back against the bed and he was half on top of her, propped up by his elbow. Perhaps getting what she wanted wouldn’t be as difficult. 

But no, of course it would. Just as things got interesting he pulled back, sliding away from her and putting a bit of distance between their bodies. 

He chuckled slightly at her expression and sat up, running his hands through his unruly hair.

“We shouldn’t get carried away”, he murmured, “Not right now anyway”

Ginny sighed, always so noble. But, of course, he was right. Now was not the time. She sat up too, crossing her legs.

“You look awful, Harry.” Ginny said.

“Gee, thanks”, he replied sarcastically. She laughed and shook her head.

“That’s not what I meant. Why don’t you go take a shower, I’ll take one too, then we can go to bed.”

He nodded. “A shower might not be a bad idea.”

Harry clambered of the bed and rummaged around in his backpack, which he had gotten off Hermione, for some clean clothes. Setting his stuff on the floor beside him reached into the bag again and pulled out an old t-shirt and handed it to Ginny. She took it and raised an eyebrow. 

He blushed.

“I’m assuming you don’t have any other clothes apart from what you’ve got on, right?” He explained. Ginny nodded and smiled at his thoughtfulness. He shrugged.

“It’s properly gonna be really big, it used to be Dudley’s before-” She shut him up with a quick kiss.

“It’ll be fine. Thank you.” She said softly.

Harry blushed again and stood up. Ginny watched him leave then looked down at the grey t-shirt. It was definitely too big but she didn’t mind. It was soft and worn, the picture on the front, some muggle brand, was cracked and faded and it smelled like Harry.

Ginny heard the water start up and hurried to her own bathroom. She knew that, in their haste, the girls from her dormitory would have left their shampoos and stuff behind and was sure that they wouldn’t mind her using them. 

She was quick, barely letting herself feel the hot water, knowing that Harry was waiting. She hardly felt the sting of her wounds or the ache in her muscles as she lathered up. She ignored the heavy feel of her body as she furiously scrubbed her hair, getting rid of all the mud and twigs that had somehow gotten in there. She didn’t linger once she was done, she stepped out of the shower and turned off the water. 

Quickly, she patted herself dry, wrung her hair and pulled the t-shirt over her head. It slipped off one shoulder, the short sleeves ending below her elbows and it stopped midway down her thighs. 

Ginny smiled slightly at the figure in the mirror and remembered her idle fantasies of wearing one of Harry’s shirts, preferably his Quidditch one with his name across the back. She ran her hand over the soft fabric, enjoying the feel of it on her bare skin, and inhaled deeply. It smelled exactly like Harry, broom polish, and grass. 

She sighed and walked back to her old dormitory to see if she could nick some clean underwear from one of her friends.

 ~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~

When she got back to the room Harry was already there. The covers were thrown back and he was sat with his back against the headboard, head tilted back, eyes shut. Exhaustion was plain on his face and he looked like he was already out cold. S

he paused in the doorway to look at him. He seemed so young and vulnerable, yet at the same time so old, a thousand years older than she could ever be. 

Ginny stepped into the room and closed the door. Harry opened his eyes and his expression went from fatigue to astonishment in about a nanosecond, his jaw even dropped open. She smirked at him, hopped onto the bed and reached over to close his mouth with an audible snap.

“I’ll take that as a complement.” She said lightly, sliding into bed next to him and pulling and sheets over them. Harry stared at her for a moment and blinked a couple times.

“Um, maybe you should put some trousers on.” He said slowly.

“Why?” she asked, looking confused. “I’m comfortable like this.”

“Yes, but your brothers will kill me if they find us like this.” He replied seriously. “They won’t care that I just killed Voldemort. If they find me in bed with their almost naked little sister they will tear me apart.” 

“Harry, you just defeated the darkest wizard of all time and your telling me you’re scared of my brothers?” Ginny asked skeptically, eyebrows raised.

“Um, we’re talking about your six older brothers, three of which include a curse breaker, a dragon trainer and notorious practical jokers, so yeah!”

Ginny inhaled sharply, blinked rapidly and looked away.  
“Five.” She murmured, her voice thick.

Harry sat confused for a few second, then he realised what he had said.

“Oh Merlin, Ginny I’m sorry!”

“No, it’s ok. I’ve got to get used to it, right?” her voice trembled on the last word and a tear rolled down her nose and splashed onto her hands. Harry’s arms were around her immediately and he pulled her down onto his chest, lying back and holding her tightly while she shook with silent sobs. 

His hands stroked back her hair and he waited till her sobs subsided to sniffles before he pulled away, ducking his head to look her in the eye, his thumb swiped across her cheek, catching a wayward tear. 

"I don't think you can ever 'get used to it'." He murmured,  
obviously thinking of Sirius, of his parents. "It always stays with you, and eventually it gets easier to live with. But you never forget, never move on, just move forward."

Ginny nodded slowly. After all, she knew her mother had never fully gotten over the deaths of her brothers. Harry was right, it wasn't something you 'got used to' or 'got over', it stayed with you. 

"'The ones who love us never truly leave us'." Harry said softly, "Sirius said that to me once. I didn't really understand what he meant at the time, but i do now."

His eyes were distant, focused on something only he could see.  
She squeezed his fingers gently, calling him back to her.  
He smiled at her, but she could see the exhaustion in his eyes, carved into his face. She stroked her fingers across his cheeks and watched as his eyes closed under her touch. When they didn't opened again, she shuffled forward, laying her head on the dip between his shoulder and chests, her figures splayed out over his stomach. 

She could hear his steady heartbeat. See the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed and she smiled. 

"What do you think is going to happen now?" She asked quietly.  
He didn't answer. 

Ginny lifted her head to gaze at him and her smile widened when she saw he had fallen asleep, his lips parted, the lines on his face smoothed out. 

He looked younger. 

She smiled, snuggling back down against him, closing her eyes and stifling a yawn. 

"I think we're going to be ok."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!
> 
> It would be totally 100% awesome if you could leave a review. Reviews are life!


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